


Clandestine

by justlikehoney



Category: Batman (1966), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Blushing, Consent Issues, M/M, TCB, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 12:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19812208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikehoney/pseuds/justlikehoney
Summary: Just Batman and Robin, on a case.





	Clandestine

Four muscle-bound thugs in cheap tuxedos lurk behind the red door of the Cat's Claw Club. As prearranged, as usual, Robin takes the two on the right, Batman the two on the left. Precision hits, a foot to the head, the sound of heavy bodies dropping on cheap reproduction Italian tile.

At the end of the dark hallway, another punk in a tux raises an automatic, aims for the golden oval on Batman’s chest. 

Surging forward, mid-air somersault, and a green boot kicks the goon’s outstretched hand. The wild bullet flakes some of the ceiling down as Batman makes the head of the stairs and jumps for the room on the right.

Robin’s legs push him up on toward the landing at the top of the steps. When the biggest mook crouches close above him, he lets him have it. A one-two punch and Robin pats the thug’s face with his gloved hand as the bruiser tumbles down past him.

A hand catches one of Robin’s ankles, just above the pixie boot.

Clinging to the railing, he drives his other foot back. Something stops his foot. Nothing stops Robin. 

The room at the top of the stairs is dark. Lit by moonlight streaming in the open window, two figures writhe on the floor. The only sounds are leather against leather, Catwoman’s snarls, Batman’s labored breath as she fights him. They turn at the sound of Robin’s footstep, fumble. 

She stands, pivots, goes for the fire escape. Gets yanked back by her cowl. Her hard, pointed boot smacks into Batman’s groin. Batman’s gauntlet shoots out, catches her ankle and she stumbles, landing on her back. 

Batman falls on her, pins her wrists, says over his shoulder, “I’ve got this, Robin.” Looks up at him for a split second. “Find the idol.” Catwoman works one hand free and slashes at the bare skin of his jaw, claws breaking skin from his jowl to the edge of his lips. Batman snags her wrist again, licks at the blood at the corner of his mouth. “Go!” he says, not looking away from the woman struggling beneath him. “Don’t let the Collector get away!”

The golden statue of Bastet is in the wine cellar, now unguarded. Waiting for the Collector and his dirty money. Robin hides himself in a dark corner, near a rack of Chardonnay. The shadows in his peripheral vision lengthen, deepen. 

“Status?” Batman’s voice is rough, husky.

“Idol at twelve o’clock. Buyer due any minute. Catwoman?”

“No longer an issue.”

“Really?”

“Will explain at debriefing. Personal status?” The voice is directly behind Robin, now. He can feel the air shimmer around him. He leans back, just an inch or so, and his back makes contact with Batman’s chest, a solid wall of muscle and Kevlar. He shivers. 

“Batman, I--”

Partners. They are partners and Batman knows what he needs. An iron arm wraps around his chest, a leather glove slides over his shorts, then under.

Robin gasps. 

“Shhh.” Batman breathes in his ear, just barely audible. “You took an unacceptable risk in the stairwell.”

Robin pushes up into the tight fist, slicking the leather with his own … “Oh,” he says, his voice shaking.

“With the gun.” The gauntlet speeds up, squeezing on both the up and the down stroke. 

Robin gasps again, thrashing a little, even as he tries not to, his head against Batman’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Batman.”

“Robin,” Batman whispers, harsh and demanding against his ear, then his throat. He can smell the copper tang of Batman's cut jaw as he shakes almost uncontrollably, wild but confined. “Robin,” Batman says again, his voice as rough as his hand.

“Oh, Batman!” It’s a high, unmanly whine but it feels so good. Robin shudders against the arm pinning him close.

Batman slides his left hand up from where it had been wrapped around his chest and clamps it down, hard, over Robin’s mouth. 

Robin can’t breathe well with that big hand over his still open mouth. He gags a little around the fingers of the gauntlet.

“Shhh.” Batman says again. Then, “Come for me, Robin.”

Outside the club, a car door slams. Their prey is arriving. In the dark, dusty basement, Batman’s fist is relentless.

Robin trembles, closes his eyes, mouths the fingers of the glove, thrusts up harder. He has permission. 

He tries not to make any sound at all when he comes all over Batman’s black leather gauntlet. He’s not entirely successful, but Batman’s other hand muffles the high keen. 

Footsteps pound down the basement stairs. Always prepared, Batman shoves a tissue in Robin’s hand and crosses the room to meet the villain. Blushing, Robin cleans up and joins the fight

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my other Bruce/Dick.


End file.
